


Tesslyn's Perfect Dream

by Extraordinaire



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening, Pre-Dragon Age Origins
Genre: F/M, Read at Own Risk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-07-07 22:25:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15917505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Extraordinaire/pseuds/Extraordinaire
Summary: ... Which never really happened.





	Tesslyn's Perfect Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Warden's Reckoning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15910506) by [Extraordinaire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Extraordinaire/pseuds/Extraordinaire). 



> READ AT OWN RISK
> 
>  
> 
> Insert for CH 28 of The Warden's Reckoning. The dream/waking up occurs in the middle of chapter 28, but should be readable as a standalone. Ended up needing its own slot outside the chapter. Dream takes place Pre-DAO, but waking up occurs during Awakening.
> 
>  
> 
> Mood Music:  
> [A Thousand Years, by Christina Perri](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rtOvBOTyX00)

_Cailan looked over as the shutters rattled against the lock._

**This is new.** _No one had tried to break in through a window before, let alone_ **his** _window. The King’s bedroom was two stories above ground. It would be much easier to break in through a ground-floor window. Or walk in the front door._

_Whoever struggled at his window intended to meet the King._

_Assassins? Had Loghain decided to get rid of him once and for all? Or was it Anora trying to scare him? Or had Cailan become important enough throughout Thedas?_

_An assassination attempt would liven up the palace, though. Something glorious and unplanned at last._

_Cailan strode to the window. If it was assassins, the window was narrow. He would have time to duck away and grab his shield._

_His hand tarried on the metal latch as a feminine grunt reached his ears. A_ **woman?** _Were assassins women? Oh, this would be fun. Cailan turned the tiny knob and loosened the latch over its lock. And stood back to welcome whoever grunted on the other side._

_The shutters flew open with a noise of surprise from both ends. Cailan’s heart leapt into his throat._

**“Tess?”** _He stared at the woman outside his window. The fire and candles lit her without fail. There was no mistaking her._

_The woman he declared he’d marry when he met her fifteen years ago. When he was five. Cailan loved her since._

_Tesslyn Cousland frowned. “Don’t call me that.”_

_Cailan stepped over and braced her. “What are you doing here? On my_ **window?** _Did you climb up?”_

_“Let go of me. I don’t need your help climbing in.”_

_“You needed my help opening the window.” Cailan pulled her in anyway. “Why did you climb up the palace? Are the_ **doors** _all barred?”_

 _“Will you let go of me!”_ _Tesslyn hissed. She shrugged him off, staggering away as she brushed her pants._

 _Cailan wasn’t sure he could stop smiling. It wasn’t every day the woman he wanted sneaked into his room. This was_ **much** _more interesting than an assassination attempt. He poked his head out before closing the shutter and re-locking it. Then he turned and faced the woman he’d always loved._

_Tesslyn straightened with a last brush to her sleeves. “Look-” she pushed the hood off her head. The hood attached to a fitting vest. Her whole outfit might blend in with the palace rock._

_She_ **planned** _to climb up? At night with no way to stay warm? This wasn't Antiva._

_“Why didn’t you bring a jacket?” Cailan didn’t mean to interrupt._

_Tesslyn glared as if he chose the wrong time for jokes. “Can you see a cloak climbing up the wall? I would have been seen for -” She broke off with hard breath and a blink. “I didn’t come here to debate my evening attire-” Cailan couldn’t help a smile. “I came here to ask why-” Tess broke off again. She frowned deep and leaned, using Cailan’s arm as leverage to see what she needed to see. Her mouth hitched open in a curse that never aired._

_Cailan leaned himself until he spied the source of her distraction. He could not break his grin for the life of him._

_Tess huffed, releasing him with a sharp gesture towards her portrait. “Where did you get that?” she demanded._

_“You like it?” Cailan stepped back to turn over two glasses and uncap the decanter._

**“Like** _it? Cailan, it’s_ **mine!”** _she frowned deeper._

_“Yes, I know.” Cailan glanced back while he poured his favorite rum. “I love that dress on you.”_

**“No!** **Cailan!”** _she made a noise of frustration. “That was at_ **my house! Why?** _How much did you pay-_ **No!** _No, nevermind, I don’t want to know.” Tess broke off in another heavy huff and paced away._

_Cailan chuckled and held out a glass. “I didn’t need to pay for it. It was a gift.” In his mind, he recalled the night he unwrapped it. It had been hard to keep emotion from his eyes. Even harder to when Fergus clapped him on the back and wished him a happy birthday. Tesslyn in the gown that made her eyes blossom with more life than an entire forest. Like the dress he first saw her in so many years ago._

_Tess made another noise through her teeth and jerked the drink away. She grimaced as she downed the entire drink at once._

_“No no no!” Cailan tried to protest. His turn to make a noise. “Ah, Tesslyn, you don’t chug it. It’s a_ **sipping** _drink.”_

_“Not right now it isn’t.” She held the empty glass out for a refill._

_Cailan couldn’t help a laugh. No matter how much she tried to despise him, she was always adorable. He fulfilled her silent request, only hesitating when her fingers locked on the glass. Tess frowned at him again, but Cailan only smiled. “Sip it this time, please.” Tesslyn rolled her eyes. Cailan couldn’t stop smiling. He gestured to a chair as she made a show of sipping. “Are you hungry?”_

_“No.” Her brows remained in a constant frown. Stubborn, not actual angst. Then her eyes darted, her frown deepened, and she dropped into the chair. “Yes,” she muttered._

_Cailan chuckled again. “What would you like?”_

_Forever stubborn. Tesslyn sank back in the chair like a man, arms over her chest, refusing to lighten the frown. She only moved an arm to sip. “Those little cream-filled cakes. The ones my dog got into that one night. When he left evidence all down the hall.”_

_Cailan laughed. “I remember that! Ah, Andraste, that was glorious.” He giggled as he stood. He could only imagine the laughter each day if Tesslyn moved in with her hound. Cailan sipped and set his drink down before approaching the door. “Don’t move, please. I don’t want to draw attention to the fact a beautiful woman climbed in through my window.” He grinned as Tess rolled her eyes and scoffed again._

_Cailan unlatched his door and poked only his head out. A dark sconce was replaced and lit by a night maid. Otherwise the corridor was dark. No sure way to not draw attention right now._

_Sod it. Cailan was King. The King owed no one an explanation._

_He called the maid over. Ordered a dozen flaky cakes with whipped cream. And his mind went to drink with a faint clank behind him; Tess was refilling. She would be drunk off her feet by her first cake. Cailan stopped the maid from leaving to order a platter of produce, bread and gravy, and some roast from supper -_ **no,** _fish. Roasted fish with crispy skin. Tesslyn liked fish._

 _“An entire feast?” Tess drawled as Cailan locked his door. “You_ **excel** _at not drawing attention. Your Majesty.”_

_Cailan turned to see her refilling her glass again. He sighed, hurrying his feet to cover her glass and take the decanter away. “That’s enough for now, wait until supper.”_

_“No, let me get drunk.”_

_“You just had three glasses of rum. In a minute, I suspect you'll find out you’re already drunk.” He set the drink out of reach, then returned to his chair._

_Tesslyn still frowned. “You must be ill, Cailan. Drunk is the only way you’ll ever get me out of my clothes. I’d think you’d be overjoyed for my intoxication.”_

_“I won’t force you into anything, Tess. You know that. I haven’t yet.”_

_“Don’t call me that.” She had a thing about her name. Didn’t want anyone but her brother and parents calling her nicknames._

_“Tess. Tess, Tess, Tess, Tess, Tess, Tess, Tess.” Cailan loved her name. He always had. He thought it should be the name of a princess from fairytales. He called her Tess instead of Tesslyn hoping she would consider him family. Hoping she realized he loved her and considered her_ **his** _family._

_She scoffed again. “Fucking kings.” She sank lower, only to groan and sit back up with a wince. “Fuuuck. I think you’re right.” She groaned with her eyes shut and leaned forward. Cailan couldn’t see her hand, but he bet it was on her belly._

_He reclined and watched her, sipping from his glass. Unable to help a grin again. “How do you expect to climb back out my window now?” he teased._

_“I don’t know,” she croaked. “I didn’t plan on drinking, you know.”_

_“Ah, shame on me for offering a guest a drink.”_

_“A guest. Right.” She winced again._

_“You’re always welcome in my home, Tesslyn.”_

_“Not since your father disappeared and you married that commoner with a stick up her cunt. You know the stick; it’s the one she beats anyone she’s jealous of with. Including me. And elves. Except that nug-face handmaiden of hers. But she beats everyone else with that stick. She gets_ **off** _doing stuff like that.”_

_Cailan snorted. Orlais taught Tess some interesting words. He also never knew she babbled so much when she drank._

_“It’s not as bad when Loghain isn’t around.” Not that he was advocating for Anora, but the woman - his wife - treated him more like a friend than a lazy business partner when Loghain wasn’t in the palace._

_Tess winced again as she shook her head, settling instead for a frown. “Do not say that name.”_

_“Right. I apologize.” Cailan didn’t know the details, nor was he sure he wanted to. He stopped trusting Loghain outside captaining the day Uncle Teagan and Fergus told him Tess ran to Teagan for help._

_Cailan stared at the woman across from him. He still remembered the first time he saw her. He was five, she was three. She tried to hide behind her father’s legs. Cailan thought he’d seen a pure spirit from the Fade. They were far from those children, now. But nothing changed how he felt. Nothing changed how she looked to him._

_“It’s not too late to be my wife, Tess.”_

_Her eyelids split and Tesslyn glared like Cailan was mad. “Why am I not surprished the shight of a drunk woman ex- exits…cites…” Tesslyn made a noise and bent further in the chair._

_Cailan smiled and set down his drink. “One moment.” He stood and crossed the room. As he pricked his finger on the pin on his robe, Tesslyn groaned behind him._

_“What did I drink?”_

_He grinned. The bloodlock opened beneath the red drop at his finger. “I’ll assume that means you like it. Milk fruit rum. Par Vollen stuff. Uncle Teagan orders vats of it.” Cailan grabbed a small bottle and let the bloodlock close itself back up. “But it’s still a sipping drink. You’re not supposed to chug it, no matter how much it doesn’t taste like alcohol.” He knelt down in front of Tesslyn. “Here.”_

_She frowned at the pink liquid in his hand. “Whash thish? A love potion?”_

_Cailan grinned again. “I don’t need love potions. I’m already in love.” He chuckled when Tess glared at him. “It sobers you up some. It takes a few minutes. Trust me. Please.”_

_Tesslyn grimaced. Her hand trembled at the bottle, at the cork. Cailan braced delicate fingers and helped her wiggle the cork out. She grimaced again as she brought the bottle to her mouth. “Before I sober up and come to my senshes, Cailan, I_ **hate** _you and your fucking shweet drinks.”_

_Cailan chuckled and returned to his seat. “I’m sure you hated all three glasses you downed.”_

_“I did. I sodding did. You and your fucking… royal… fucking whatever.”_

_Cailan laughed._

_He finished his drink while Tesslyn sobered up. He sipped again. Still watching her. He was glad she came; more glad than he could express. Even if she chose the hard way of visiting._

_She’d never been in his sleeping quarters before. Cailan had tried to allure towards his bed since he was sixteen, but he was never successful. He smiled at memory: he’d been a horrible tempter. He had been drunk half the time. Back then, it made sense to ambush her with kisses against the wall. And he, at sixteen, thought it should have worked. Over time, he grew to like her slapping his face. He figured out she only slapped him when she liked something he did. Now, he liked to think he was a more proficient lover._

_And here she was. In his room, about to eat with him. Alone with him._

_Cailan hoped she stayed._

_“It’s not too late to marry me.” It would never be too late. It could happen, one way or another._

_“The hidden motive of the King’s chivalry,” Tesslyn muttered._

_“I mean it, Tesslyn. You can still be my wife.”_

_In slow-motion, she sat up till her back touched the cushioned chair. Tesslyn took a deep breath; she looked relieved she wasn’t about to be sick anymore. “That’s not likely to happen, Cailan.”_

_“Why not? Would it really be so bad to be my wife?”_

_“I don’t want to marry. Not to mention your collection of nobles who want me hanging from my own insides.”_

_“They don’t matter. They aren’t the King.”_

_She stared at him, frowning. Trying to read him. Not seeing what he saw, it seemed. “I don’t want to be Queen, Cailan. Yours or anyone’s.”_

_He couldn’t pretend her rejection never hurt. “So let’s run away.” Cailan had lost track of how many times he asked her this. He wouldn’t need to be King if they ran away._

_Tess scoffed a laugh. “Not likely. We’d be caught and I’d be executed for kidnapping the King. No thank you, Cailan. I like my head_ **on** _my body.”_

_“They’d never find us.”_

_“Of course not.” She sat up. “May I have my drink back?”_

_Cailan smiled, hoping he hid the ache in his heart. She was here regardless. At least he could enjoy the night with her. He stood and returned her drink and the decanter to the small table. “Sip it this time. Slowly. Please.”_

_Tesslyn muttered Thank You before blocking her lips with the glass._

_Cailan watched her still; his favorite thing to do. She looked run down. Like she’d been awake days. Irritated and stubborn as always, but run down. He wanted to ask how she’d been, if she needed help from anything. But this was the longest she’d sat with him. The longest she’d kept her guard down with him. Maybe she’d let him hold her. Let him kiss away lines of trouble._

_Stress didn’t take away her beauty. It only made her more real, proof she was a living person instead of a spirit he could not touch._

_Not that she let him touch her. He hoped. Dreamed. But it never happened. Every kiss he’d managed, he’d had to ambush her for._

_Tesslyn drank like she needed someone to make the world go away. Cailan didn’t understand how she didn’t think he could do that for her._

_“Sip it, I said,” he teased._

_“Slowly, you said,” the glass between her teeth distorted her speech._

_Cailan smiled._

_“’S not_ **my** _fault I’m not a hulking Theirin who can drink and drink and drink and drink.”_

_Cailan smiled wider. “But you can still be a Theirin.” Tesslyn froze, eyes straight ahead._

_“I fucking_ **handed** _myself that one, didn’t I?” she muttered._

_A knock sounded at the door. “Cailan?” Anora. His wife. Cailan hung his head with a sigh; she couldn’t pick a better night to be clingy?_

_Tesslyn’s glass landed on the table with a clank._

_“Not tonight, Anora. I’d like to be alone,” Cailan called back._

_Tesslyn stood with a tight jaw, checking her buttons and belt. “Good night, Cailan.” She stepped around the chair and unlocked the window._

_“Are you all right?” Anora called through the door._

_“No, please. Tesslyn.” Cailan took her arm before he realized he’d left his seat. “Please stay.”_

_“Cailan?” Anora sounded suspicious. Suspicion he had a woman inside masked by concern. Cailan knew the room was too large for her to hear what happened inside. Anora would only speculate unless she walked in, but she would not risk such humiliation._

_“Tess, please. Don’t leave.” Cailan turned her head. “At least stay for food. I’ll sneak you out the front later.” A large cloak should conceal her identity._

_“Cailan?” Anora repeated._

**“Not tonight,** _Anora!” he snapped “I’m_ **busy! All night!”** _When Cailan looked back, Tesslyn searched him. “Please,” he implored. He never raised his voice at Tesslyn. He refused to. Anora was one thing, but never Tesslyn. He hoped Tess knew that. “It’s late. You’ve been drinking, you’ll never make it down the wall alive. Please don’t leave. Not because Anora’s nosy.”_

_“Cailan-” she began. Her other hand kept a grip on the window ledge. A foot propped up the chair, preparing to push up._

_“Please. We’ll eat, drink. I’ll send for your favorite tea. There’s no need to run tonight._ **Whatever** _you want. Just don’t leave. Not like this._ **Please.”**

_Tesslyn stared again. Frowned again. Eyes searched his in thought._

_Then her head leaned. And nodded beyond. “What does_ **Anora** _think of it?”_

_Cailan glanced back. The portrait. He smiled, and smiled wider when he turned back to find her foot off the chair. Her hand slipped down the stone windowsill._

_She was staying._

_“Are you kidding? Anora_ **hates** _that painting. Especially when I call her in at night.”_

 _Tesslyn’s eyes flew to his. “You keep it up during sex? What, do you_ **stare** _at it while you’re…_ **in** _her?”_

 _“What else do you think I do with it?” he joked. “I even make her lay sideways on the bed so I can see it better. I’ve called her Tess a few times. I assume I_ **also** _say it when I’m sloshed and don’t remember the night come morning.”_

 _“You… are a_ **horrible** **husband,** _Cailan.”_

_“No. I just married the wrong woman.”_

_Tesslyn searched him again. Her face softened for the first time in… since the wedding where he married the wrong woman. Cailan hoped it meant she had second thoughts about despising him tonight. He reached around her and closed the shutters. Closed her in the room with him._

_As long as no one broke the door down, this would be their secret paradise tonight. Even if tonight was all Cailan had with her._

_“Is this where I take off my clothes and assume the position?” Tesslyn didn’t want to give in so easy._

_Cailan grinned. Cool metal of the lock pushed into place beneath his hand. “If you want to eat naked, go right ahead.” Tesslyn made a face and drank straight from the decanter._

 

_Too much drink and one too many sweets. Tesslyn didn’t get far into the platter before she slowed and fell asleep in her chair. Cailan admired her for a moment. Neck craned, mouth hitched open, a half-eaten cream cake in her hand. Cailan almost didn’t catch the glass before it fell from her lap._

_He threw back the covers on his bed. All he dared remove were her boots; he wanted her trust come morning. Cailan carried her to bed and tucked her in, then extinguished candles and climbed in next to her. She slept so hard she did not move a muscle when he settled in._

_He didn’t know she snored._

_Well… he sort of did. Fergus once said his sister snored. But Fergus was eleven, Cailan eight, and they were muddy boys spying on girls down by the river, not noble sons behaving themselves. Fergus told him of all the gross things noble women did when noble women weren’t supposed to: belch, fart, sneeze so hard snot flies out, snore. Boy things. Fergus likened Tesslyn’s snores to a pig. But that’s not what Cailan heard now. This was soft, faint. Delicate. A side of Tesslyn only a rare few knew about it._

_And she was asleep in his bed. Cailan almost didn’t know what to do. It never happened before. She’d never come to his quarters before. She used to avoid passing him in corridors. But here she was. Tomorrow, he would wake up next to the woman he loved._

_Cailan didn’t want to sleep. He was afraid he’d miss what this felt like._

 

_Cailan woke with the graying sky beyond his window. He hadn’t meant to wake so early, but his internal hourglass turned itself. He’d wanted to sneak Tesslyn out in the morning; no better time than early dawn when only servants walked the halls._

_He didn’t have the heart to wake her though. Tesslyn was a picture of serenity. Still snoring, she hadn’t moved from when Cailan laid her down. She looked relaxed. During her waking hours, she was always alert. Always ready to leave, for as long as Cailan knew her;_ **his whole life _._** _But right now, Tesslyn was comfortable. She was comfortable with_ **him.**

_It was every bit euphoric as Cailan dreamed._

_Most important of all,_ **she was in his bed.** _For the first time, Cailan woke up next to the woman he’d loved his entire life. It didn’t matter he hadn’t made love to her._

_She woke under his hand. He hadn’t meant to wake her, either. Cailan meant to move wisps of hair off her face. But he got carried away. He’d always wanted to brush her face with the back of his hand. To fold his fingers up and caress her face, like he’d read about in romance books; of course he read them, he used to imagine it was him and Tess. Gestures of intimacy and love. In books, the woman always curled in and gazed up at her strong, loyal hero with the love of the world. With Tesslyn asleep, Cailan had not expected her to curl in and declare her love. But he gave into temptation. And his caress woke her._

_Tesslyn stirred, head first, then arms. Then her legs tucked up. Her eyes opened as slow as they could. Long, lazy blinks until sleepy emeralds focused on Cailan._

_And she frowned._

_“I fucking did not.” Her voice sounded like a groaning mouse this soon; he’d never heard a sweeter sound._

_Cailan couldn’t help a chuckle. “What?”_

_“Am I dreaming?”_

_The grin spread on its own. “Dreaming you woke up next to a handsome King who can make all your dreams comes true?”_

_Tesslyn groaned and smashed a pillow over her head. “My_ **father** _will be happy, at least.” The pillow did not muffle her enough._

 _Cailan giggled. “Yes, I’ll be sure to tell Teyrn Cousland I woke up next to his daughter. I think your_ **mother** _might get to me first.”_

_Tesslyn threw off the pillow with a deeper frown and lifted the blankets. She patted her buttons and buckles, turned her arms a few times, even threw back the blanket to look at his clothes._

_She stared. “Are you ill?”_

_“What?” he chuckled again._

_“I’m dressed._ **You’re** _dressed. We’re not naked.”_

_“We are not,” he confirmed._

**“Why** _not?_ **How** _many times have you tried to get me in bed?” Tesslyn no longer sounded like a groggy mouse. She seemed wide awake already. A morning person; Cailan never knew this before either._

_“I lost count after thirty-six,” he joked. It was harder not to smile than he guessed. He hoped the twitch of her mouth meant she, also, fought a smile._

_“And now that I am?”_

_“I wanted to wake up next you. That’s all. Besides, you were… pretty drunk last night,” Cailan recalled, no longer able to fight his smile._

_Tess frowned again. “Did I do anything stupid?”_

_“What do you consider stupid?” Cailan reached over again to tuck hair behind her ear. She didn’t lean away from his hand._

_Cailan couldn’t quite pinpoint the feelings he had right now. He was elated. He adored her -_ **loved** _her more this morning than he ever felt. Cailan wanted the moment to last forever._

_But she was awake. Which meant whatever she stayed for had to end. If Loghain caught Tess in here - worse, caught her in bed with Cailan… Cailan could not protect her unless she never left his side; she would refuse. Loghain would have her murdered on the road. Or have her thrown to the ocean with a rock chained to her feet._

_Elated yet dreading. He didn’t think it fair a man could feel in love and heartbroken at once._

_Tess frowned once more. She looked conflicted, not vexed. As if reading his mind, “Waking up next to the King when I killed all but the General’s daughter to ensure I’d never have to. When the General lives here now,” she answered._

_Cailan’s heart sank. He folded his hand, and slid the back of his fingers down her face. She didn’t curl into him and profess love, but she held his wrist. For the woman who refused to hold his hand growing up, this was enough. Her eyes closed as his thumb caressed her cheek. “I don’t care what Loghain thinks. He knows it’s not_ **his** _daughter I love. He made the mistake of pushing his daughter in your place when he knew better.”_

 _“But you let_ **her** _do everything. Which means_ **he** _has power here.”_

_“And as soon as you say Yes, Cailan, the Love of My Life, I Will Marry You, they’re both gone.”_

_Tesslyn flew her eyes to his. “Love of my life?” she echoed with a faint grimace._

_“Yes, darling?” he teased._

_She scoffed and rolled her eyes and pushed his face away. Cailan couldn’t help his laugh._

_He couldn’t help staring. She was beyond beautiful. Brilliant green eyes, lips like a rose, hair like the winter sun at dusk. She was the life of the world packed away in a person. Pure beauty tucked in a shell of stubbornness. His heart swelled just looking at her._

_Cailan wondered if she knew just how much he loved her._

_“Are you going to slap me if I kiss you?” He searched her eyes._

_“Why? Do you want me to?”_

_Cailan grinned through a giggle. “You’re feisty in the morning. That’s good to know.” Her face fell, and Cailan chuckled again._ **“Will** _you?” he repeated._

_“I don’t know. I don’t usually get in fights this early.”_

_His smile changed. Every time he’d kissed her, she’d always let him. But it never went further than_ **him** _kissing. “Will you kiss me back?”_

_Tesslyn hesitated. “I don’t know.”_

_Fair enough, he supposed, considering neither had planned to wake up like this. He should count himself lucky he made it this far with her._

_Cailan traced her cheek, her jaw. She searched him. Her chest heaved under his arm as he held her chin, pushing her bosoms against him. He leaned in, watching her mouth part. Her breath tingled Cailan’s skin. A quick glance up; eyes met above heavy breath. She anticipated him._

_The first kiss drew a moan that woke his groin._ **She** _moaned; she liked his kisses after all. Hot, hard breath between kisses woke the rest of his body. The third kiss, she chased his lips._ **She kissed him** ; _for the first time in his life. A noise scraped up his throat._

 _Tess kissed like she’d always wanted to kiss him. Like she’d dreamed of this day. Deliberate. Tender. Lingering on his every kiss. Sweeter lips he never tasted. Cailan cupped her face, brought her in closer as he ran a hand down her back. Fingers grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward her. She_ **tasted** _him. Her tongue in his mouth conjured sounds from in his throat and tightened his smalls. Fingers on the back of his neck and the tongue turning his sent shivers down his spine. Below layers and blankets and a robe, Cailan grew in his smalls; he swore she smirked when he reached down to adjust himself. A thick sigh broke between kisses and he pressed harder, turning his head to kiss deeper. She moaned with him this time. Bracing the small of her back arched her hips. Cailan groaned and pulled her in, draping her legs over his hip. Her hands untying his shirt to feel his chest hair moved his hips again, this time pushing his bulge against her._

_They stopped to stare. Breathless, clutching. Hands tangled at the back of his head and on his chest. Caressing down the back of her shoulder flinched her brow and squirmed her into him. She liked his touch. Cailan’s breath bounced off her and steamed his face._

_Cailan kissed her with eyes open, staring, searching. “I love you,” he told her. Kissed her again. “You know I’ve always loved you, Tess.” First time she never corrected him._

_Cailan pushed up on his hands and knees. Tess watched him crawl over her, anticipation in her gasps and eyes. Yearning; no, beyond._

_Something more._

_Ardor. For_ **him.**

**At last.**

_Arms closed around his neck and pulled him down. She kissed deeper, confident. Whole. Kissing the woman he loved compared to nothing. Every touch excited his groin, every kiss sent lightning through his body. Every sigh and gasp between kisses, a song he waited for his whole life._

_Grabbing her tongue with his teeth rolled hips. She pulled his whole body down, opened her hips to feel his weight. Wrapped a leg around him. The deeper they kissed, the more urgency called for attention. She broke from the kiss in a deep gasp when he rubbed his erection at her core. Tess stared like she didn’t expect pleasure. Cailan rubbed on her again, staring in her eyes. And again, unhurried, teasing her as much to enjoy the rising sensation. Loitering. A drawn grunt spilled from his tongue. She gazed back, pupils blown, arousal all over her face._ **Need** _all over her face._

_“Do you want to?” his voice was low, husky. He couldn’t stop rubbing. She already felt so good. He pleaded in his head she’d say yes._

_Tess nodded, mouth stuck open. Cailan almost laughed, five years trying to seduce her. He’d done it at last._

_Mouths smashed together, a burning dance of lips and tongues. Breath quickened, fingers fumbled at buttons and ties. Buckles came off so fast they clanked at whatever wall. He lost breath when she pushed his shirt up. A noise of relief and desire escaped as her fingers grazed in tantalizing trails with the shirt. Untying his smalls made her gasp and stare; his erection bobbed between them. Cailan yanked her out of her pants so fast her cry echoed in the room._

_Naked. They’d never been naked together. She was perfect. More beautiful than any other he'd seen. At long last, here she was, the woman who held his heart_ **lying ready for him.** Cailan _couldn’t wait to feel her around him._

 _Yet he did. He dropped to her neck with tongue and shoved his hands under her back, pushing her chest out for him. He wanted to taste her. Wanted to devour her. A whine that quaked her hips broke free when he latched on to a breast. He wanted_ **all** _of her. Wished he could drink her. Suckled like he could, pulling her in as far as his mouth opened. Lashed his tongue at her nipple to feel her thrash again. Held her tighter and reached down, rubbed between her legs. His fingertips at a silky brim drew gasps and mewls, tangled fingers in curls. Stuck two fingers in, glazed himself in her hot cream,_ **thrust** _while he circled a nipple with his tongue. Pushed up into the cushion inside her, withdrew his fingers only to do it again, and again. A constant pule filled the room and a hand braced the back of his head. Cailan pulled from her breast to watch her face._ **Tess** _watched_ **him,** _watched his hand pull away and thrust back in to the spot that dropped her jaw and made her lip tremble with a whine._

 _Maker still his pulse, she was so fucking beautiful. Cailan cooed and leaned up. Her moan muffled against his mouth. Kissed her to taste, to swallow each note as he drove her song from inside her. She held on to keep him there, grip so hard on his shoulder he couldn’t pull away if he wanted. Each prod met with a tighter squeeze and rhythmic heat, and the more she throbbed, the more she sang into his kisses, the wetter she grew. His fingers made noise in her gloss. She struggled to keep her hips still. A groan from his throat broke in her mouth, now. Cailan almost laughed; she didn’t want to risk the pleasure he gave her. The pleasure_ **he** _gave. Cailan pushed faster. Her breath hurried, gasps and high whimpers. Tess clenched everywhere, couldn’t kiss him for the purse of her open mouth, clung to him. Fingers dug in at his shoulder and back. Her shoulders shuddered in effort to keep her hips still. He tasted her, skin beneath his tongue while he shoved his hand. A last lurch curled her into him with a rush of heat and juice and a wail that stole with her breath._

 _Cailan sighed into her, not wanting to move from the perfect hold of her entire body. He’d wanted this for so long, longed to lay wrapped up in her arms after making her happy. Even more potent, he made the woman he loved orgasm. So different than relieving himself in duty and Anora climaxing anyway. He_ **meant** _it now, meant to worship and appreciate Tesslyn's body_ **and he had.** _Cailan never felt more like a man._

 _He dropped and latched onto the neglected breast, starving for her body._ **His name** _fell from her lips with a hard fidget of her hips. She moved him, everything about her aroused him. Made him love her more. Cailan played with her again. Tumbled his fingers in her polish, found her clitoris and traced around the hood. Tess gasped and clutched him closer. His hips careened again; still. He plunged his fingers while he suckled and held her close. She was dough beneath him, eager for Cailan to shape her, conduct her. She_ **clamped** _him. Hotter, slicker now,_ **throbbing.** _Wet the nub with her own juices and plucked, rubbed with his slick finger. A breathless whimper resembled his name. His moans muffled at her bosoms. Her thighs jerked so hard she shook all around him. Cailan sucked and rolled a pebbled mound between his teeth, rubbed her clit till she locked up around him, nails dug in, and a high pitched squeal lost air. He didn’t stop rubbing until she went limp with a gasp and fluttered._

_He pushed up with one arm as he slid a finger back down, and dipped again. She pulsed around his finger, hot, tight, pulling noise of yearning from him. Cailan positioned himself over her, watched her. Ready for her; ready for him. Grabbed his shaft and found her hole. Breath caught in anticipation. A roll of his hips smothered him._

_Low, drawn moans rang out as eyes rolled back._ **Fuck.** _Cailan thrust slow, savoring the look on her face, drowning in the pulse around his cock. Her fingers sank into his bottom. Cailan’s hips rocked their own rhythm, faster every few moments. She gaped again when he sped up, and curled up and clenched when he thrust hard and held himself in at an angle inside. She_ **strangled** _him inside. Milked him so hard his eyes rolled and he couldn't breathe. Fuck Fuck fuck; his curses came out in a single moan. She flooded him with heat and_ **just kept squeezing.** _He wasn’t sure how long he could hold off._

 _A cry of raw pleasure sang all around him. As soon as she trembled beneath him, he sped up, thrusting as fast as he could at the same angle she needed. He thrust so hard so hard and fast skin slapped against skin with almost no rest between. Her breath came in soprano huffs and her mouth couldn’t close. He tried to watch her, but she felt too fucking good. His own mouth dropped farther as he clenched up. Kept shoving, pumping, grunts and cries and raw sex perfumed the room, and it began. Faster still,_ **almost,** _with a string of curses fumbled to voice the sensation flowing from his sack. Shooting up his shaft, up up._ **There.** _Right there. He held himself where it made her wail. Breath stole away with a burst of ecstasy and nails in his rear._

 _They lingered in bed, regretting already an end to the perfect morning. Tender kissing, recovering in perfect arms and sighs of love. No other word than Perfect. It was a morning Cailan always dreamed of. He loved her,_ **she** _loved_ **him** ; _realized she didn’t hate him and let herself love. Cailan woke up with the woman he loved, made love to her, and he_ **felt** _loved by her. He’d always wanted to be_ **her** _husband._

 _For the first time, he_ **felt** _like it. He wanted time to stop and hold them like this forever. More perfect than words could describe._

_Lingering in bed and arms made it impossible to sneak her out, though. Even if he hid her under his winter cloak, he would be seen escorting someone._

_Cailan decided he didn’t care. If Loghain or Anora even glared, King Cailan would put one of them to the guillotine. Or he would follow Tess and put the palace behind._

_A knock at the door brought them back down from the clouds. Though Cailan turned the servant away, it reminded them they could not stay in bed all day. The euphoria could not last. Cailan denied that, as well; the King did_ **not** _want the morning to end. When she tried to dress, Cailan distracted her from behind. Kissed her shoulders, her neck, ran his hands down her body, made her squirm with little tickles. He moved around to kiss her, drew her up against him. Swayed his hips to rub his shaft at her belly, and already breathless. He asked “Again?” and grinned when she nodded. Cailan bent and picked her up, kissed her, nibbled on her ear when she clung, and penetrated her again. He’d always wanted to have her while he stood; from the look on her face, she’d never done it either. She almost looked ready to orgasm again. Already. Andraste, he needed more time with her. Cailan sat in a chair and held her up. Her breasts bounced at his face as he thrust from below, her nipples brushed his mouth. Suckling, mewling, panting. Hitting the right spot so fast she couldn’t quiet and dared not move. Perfect, again. He didn’t care who heard her. Cailan hoped the whole palace heard Tesslyn Cousland on his lap._

_His cloak drowned her in fabric. A foot too long, it trailed behind her feet almost like a gown, the hood drooped past her chin, the robe so wide it might hold two of her. Cailan never imagined she’d look so cute in his clothes. She kept the hood low, kept her head down. Cailan guided her through the halls of his palace, down steps, through doors. Everyone stared. Anora stared, now understanding why he was busy all night; though she had no clue what woman the cloak hid. Cailan ignored them all. He quieted district guards and ordered his horse ready. And Cailan walked the woman he loved through town to the city gates. Where his horse awaited, ready to take her from him._

_It was harder than he pondered the night before. After their perfect morning, it was hard to let her leave. Hard to put her on the beast that would carry her from sight. He couldn’t watch her leave again. Not now. He wanted her to stay._

_No. Cailan wanted to leave with her. He’d always wanted to._

_With an arm around Tess’ shoulders, he led the horse past the gate, out of earshot of guards that reported to Loghain’s Captain each day. His back to the guards and well off the tended road, Cailan lifted the hood of his cloak. And kissed the woman beneath it._

_“Yes or No,” he said, “one last time: Run away with me?”_

_Tess stared for a moment. She searched his eyes, seemed to weigh her options in her head. The word that came out was like the Maker drowning him in blessings:_

_“Yes.”_

_Cailan grinned and kissed her again. Couldn’t stop grinning for the life of him even as he kissed her. It was the one word he’d waited his_ **whole life** _for her to say._ **Nothing** _was more beautiful than_ **this moment.** _He hoisted Tess up onto his horse and jumped up behind her, and held her while he held the reins._ **At last, it was happening.**

_Cailan rode off with the love of his life, whatever coin she carried, and never looked back._

 

_The last anyone saw of a man matching the King’s description was in Jader, then Nevarra City. A single postcard from Tallo, Anderfels was sent to Fergus Cousland, and a duplicate to Teagan Guerrin: “Live gloriously” with an arrow pointing far north of a vague compass, signed by way of a rough sketch of half the Theirin heraldry holding half the Cousland laurels. A tiny heart marked the paw clutching the laurel. No other word from King Cailan Theirin or Tesslyn Cousland was heard again._

 

_But they made it. Cailan and Tesslyn made it north of Thedas, to a land where elves and dwarves and Qunari were unheard of. Where magic did not exist, and the Maker never left His people. And they thrived. They could not have children; Loghain had poisoned her, and Cailan sterilized himself. But they were happy. They chose each other and love, and a life they never dreamed of leaving. They built a home together, made friends. Became part of a small town. Cailan took up wood crafting, building homes and fixing carts, and Tess opened an apothecary. They helped those in need, animals and people alike. Raising a litter of hounds and baby ducks made them feel like parents when their past decided they could not be. One day, Tess’ mabari showed up, and their little family was complete._

_In blank journals, husband and wife penned Thedosian tales and their own adventure from Denerim up past the coast of the Colean Sea. Only copies they kept at home revealed Cailan was once King and Tesslyn the daughter of a powerful noble. Though considered fairytales in this new land, their stories became famous at town gatherings, inspiring townsmen and visitors. It was not long before Cailan became known as the town storyteller: with grand emphasis and drink in his hand, he drew shrieks, suspense, and cheers. Cailan beamed at his wife with pride and love through each one._

_Every morning, Cailan woke early to pick fresh flowers and make Tess breakfast. Each night, he dusted and swept while his wife made supper. Sometimes they got distracted when he sang and danced the broom around the house, and supper delayed with sounds and smells of romance. If dinner burned while they exercised love, Cailan made the replacement. Tess made each nightcap, and when it didn't rain, husband and wife climbed to their roof and cuddled under the stars. If it was dark enough, they made love under the stars. A life more perfect than they knew to want._

_It was a new_ **permanent** _life. Actual friends, town gatherings around bonfires to share drinks and laughter. Their past mattered to no one. They were family to their neighbors, and they found family in everyone in town; no politics or birthright to interfere. They refused to throw it all away._

 _When daylight reigned, they helped their neighbors. They helped build an orphanage and visited once a week with sweets and gifts; a good cause when Cailan and Tess shopped with eyes larger than their stomachs or purses. The orphans loved Cailan’s stories. Before long, they were only stories to Cailan and Tess, as well; the old life no longer existed. For them in their new life, Thedas no longer existed._ **This was home.** _When the town built an abbey, Cailan and Tess renewed their vows of love each year; official ceremonies to make up for never having a first one. When Tess walked through the woods to restock her alchemy shelves, Cailan walked with her, carrying the basket and tools so she could hold his hand. Their small farm grew overabundant, and Cailan and Tess became known for their wines and jams. They went to town festivals and traded jams and wines for pies, cakes, breads, and they danced nights away with their friends. Once a year, husband and wife sat with the rest of town at night and watched fireworks illuminate the sky in magic and wonder. Beautiful. Romantic. Unforgettable._

_Perfect._

_When years passed and hair grayed, when lines etched and youth slipped from their grasp, Cailan retired from wood crafting and ran the apothecary with Tess. Nightcaps under the stars lingered. Walks in the woods frequented, always hand-in-hand even when no baskets accompanied. Keeping shop or cleaning house was never more important than making love when the urge returned; though with Tess’ herbs, they engaged more than others their age._ **Nothing** _was more important than expressing love. When gray turned to white and rousing from bed became harder, when love-making was almost a memory, they were Nan and Pap: the example of love for the blossoming youth. Revered as the town elders for their devotion and wisdom. The example of How Life Should Be Done._

_It was life, full of love and joy unparalleled. Perfect and more precious than life itself. They were happier than they ever dreamed._

_All because she said Yes._

 

 

 

I can’t move. I’ve never felt the meaning of _stunned_ until now.

I’m _stunned._ But I don’t _want_ to move. I don’t want my skin to stop tingling.

This is not the right bed. Not the same room. Not the same smells.

Not Cailan’s smell. Not Cailan’s arms.

It is Alistair with me. Not Cailan. Alistair’s ginger hair. Not my hus- … not _Cailan’s_ blond mane.

_It never happened…_

Was it all _just_ a dream?

It has to be. That night never ended like that. I never made love to Cailan in the morning and we never ran away. Cailan offered me a drink, but I declined. I saw my portrait and demanded why Cailan had it, and Cailan laughed. He told me Anora hated it because he never took it down for sex. I _never_ forgot why I climbed through his window in the first place. I _asked_ him why he wrote Empress Celene; Cailan said she wrote first, offering allegiance, and he had replied. I then climbed back out the window and left. No lingering. No supper. Cailan never carried me to bed and made love to me in the morning. I never… I couldn’t feel my…clit back then; only the Architect’s healing made that possible, when I took Velanna’s womb. _It never happened._ My dog caught up to me outside Denerim and escorted me home, where I stayed for only a night before returning to Orlais.

And… Cailan is dead. He died at Ostagar. I saw his corpse, we set him a pyre. He died fighting to help buy me time to escape. So I could get to safety… with Alistair. Cailan died so Alistair could protect me when he could not.

Cailan died to make way for Alistair because he saw I was not stubborn with his brother like I was with him. I fought Cailan _all_ my life, I tried _so hard_ to hate him. I believed Loghain when he said Cailan was abusive because I _wanted_ his persistence to mean he hated me. Even when he did things like pull me around a corner to kiss me, when he sent me my favorite teas and paintings of my favorite flowers for my birthdays, when he replaced my favorite book that he ruined in childhood, when he pestered Maric to hire a chocolatier for Highever so I didn’t have to go to Denerim or Orlais for sweets… I _looked_ for ways to hate him. It was easier than taking the biggest gamble on opening my heart. But he never hated me. And I don’t think I really hated him. Cailan loved me so much he died to make room for someone I _let_ protect me.

I never meant to fall in love with Alistair, though; I even felt forced into it when I realized he couldn’t separate sex from love. I didn’t love him at Ostagar. I just wanted him on the throne so Loghain had no more power in Ferelden.

Cailan died to make way for a man he thought I loved. Over _mistaken affection_ \- I thought I was going to _die_ at Ostagar; I had _hoped_ to die in the battle. I was only trying to enjoy my last day when I knew Loghain was about. But Cailan _mistook_ that for _love._ I broke his heart, and he put himself on the front lines where he knew he would die. I broke his heart, and he _killed_ himself. _Ohhh, Maker, Cailan, I am so sorry! I’m so, so sorry._

And now I have this peerless dream to reflect on? A life that can never be?

I don’t want it to be true. I don’t want Cailan dead. I want to turn back time and run away with him when he first asked me to. I want to marry him when he first asked.

I look up at Alistair now. Still sleeping with his arms around me. As when we fell asleep after I ran over to see if he still lived. After dreaming the fight with Alistair upset him so much he killed himself while we made love. I ran back to the palace in the dark, cried in relief because Alistair wasn’t dead, cried over the nightmare. And cried myself back to sleep in Alistair’s arms.

My second dream tonight night _had_ to be _Cailan?_ It _had_ to be from _Cailan’s_ perspective? How Cailan loved me _so much_ he abandoned his country and ran away with me? And we sent a postcard from the Anderfels hinting we were leaving Thedas behind. I’ve never been to Tallo, but it’s in my memory now, watching Cailan draw our house crests, watching him smile at me as he added the little heart. The courier looked relieved to leave the harsh Anderfels. Maker, I can even see Fergus and Teagan’s faces when they received those postcards. _As if it were real,_ I can see their faces. Fergus would have grinned, ran his thumb over the tiny heart, and said “Those slippery bastards,” and he’d have read it in front of our parents. Clapped our father on the back and said they’d never have to worry about me again. Father would have teared up in relief and pride, Mother would have tried to hide tears while scolding the postcard for not saying goodbye first. Teagan would have smiled and said “It’s about time,” set it on a bookshelf in his study like a trophy, and drank to it each night. They would have been _so happy_ for us…

I _had_ to dream I ran away with Cailan and he made a perfect life for me? A new life together out of reach of Thedosian politics, a life of love and freedom. Where we were happy together. _So happy._ A _flawless_ life where we didn’t have to be King and Teyrn’s daughter. We were _loved_ by everyone without question. _I_ was in love with Cailan and he was the _best_ husband I could ever have.

_The best husband._

We had _perfection._

I’ve never known a life like that. I’ve never even _heard_ of towns that work so close together, entire towns acting as one big family. Teagan’s old town Rainesfere didn’t even come close, and Rainesfere was Ferelden’s best attempt at a perfect town; Alistair still calls it Fairytale Town.

But… that never happened. That perfect life never happened. _Mine and Cailan’s_ perfect life never happened

And from Cailan’s perspective…

Is Cailan watching me from the Fade? Did _he_ give me this dream? Is _this_ what Cailan wanted for us our _whole lives?_

I can’t stop my eyes watering. My heart hurts. It hurts so bad my whole body aches. I _miss_ him. I **_love_ ** him. It feels like my _husband_ died.

My _first_ husband.

I miss a husband I never had.

…While I lay in his brother’s arms as the Queen I never wanted to be; as a wife who’s betrayed her husband because I love two men.

And now I love Cailan.

Tesslyn Theirin née Cousland: the woman with three husbands.

…Alistair has his dreams of a perfect life. Now _I_ have one.

But it’s not about him. My perfect life only exists with his dead brother.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't say I didn't warn you.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Return to Chapter 28 of Warden's Reckoning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15910506/chapters/37106409)


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